A Different Kind of Magic
by Maker of Mischief
Summary: Just another BtVSHP Crossover. When Giles discovers a new threat, the Scoobies are called once again to save the world, with the help of three teens. The threat? A dark wizard with a new type of magic and an army of evil followers. What's a Slayer to do?
1. Prologue

Summary: When Giles discovers a new threat, the Scoobies are called once again to save the world, with the help of three teens. The threat? A dark wizard with a new type of magic and an army of evil followers. What's a Slayer to do?

Spoilers: 7th season Buffy, Half-Blood Prince in Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Alas, I own neither Buffy nor Harry Potter. Sniffle

A/N: This story will contain small amounts of femslash. If you have a problem with that, go somewhere else. The rating is subject to change, but will probably go no higher than T. That said, enjoy!

* * *

The alarm on the nightstand went off at exactly 8:00 AM. Buffy Summers sighed as she reached up to shut it off. It was July 31st, and more than a year since the collapse of the Hellmouth. 

Buffy yawned and stretched, then got up to wake Dawn. Her little sister would want to help make pancakes; Saturday was always pancake-day. Italian food was good, but every now and then, good, familiar American food was better. Especially when it was pancakes.

When she got to Dawn's room, Buffy was surprised to find her up and dressed, brushing her hair at the mirror over her dresser. When she noticed Buffy, she set down her brush and turned to face her. "Giles called," Dawn said in explanation, seeing the question in her sister's eyes. Oh. Giles. Buffy's old Watcher kept tabs on everything and everyone. He ran the New Watcher's Council. But he only called this early if something was wrong, and if Dawn stayed up, it must have been bad.

"What happened?" Buffy demanded, Slayer instincts taking hold. "Big Bad? Demon? Apocalypse? The—"

"The usual?" Dawn queried with a smirk. "No, something new. He wouldn't say on the phone. He's coming over here."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Well, I figured you could use the rest!" Dawn exclaimed. "Between the Immortal and Rome's demon population, you haven't been getting much sleep."

"Dawn, could you not—?" Buffy began. Thinking about the Immortal was still painful; despite her previous relationship troubles, it still always hurt when a new one crashed and burned.

"Sorry. Just… I worry."

"Yeah, well… don't," Buffy replied, wrapping an arm around Dawn. "That's my job. 'Kay?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Anyway," started Buffy, as Dawn shrugged out of her loose embrace, "what time do we need to be at the airport?"

"Um, he said he'd take a cab," Dawn replied sheepishly. "He won't be here for another day anyway."

"What! Why not?" Buffy asked incredulously. "Big Bad, remember?"

"_Exactly_," Dawn replied, shrugging. "He wanted everyone together for this."

"You mean…"

"A little Scooby reunion? Yep." Dawn laughed and started down the stairs, calling behind her "Xander, Will, Faith and Kennedy'll be coming with."

"Oh," Buffy stated intelligently, following after her sister. "And you didn't wake me up for this?"

"Giles had to go," Dawn replied, glancing back at Buffy. "What," she said with a laugh, "you wanted to be awake so you could start stressing a whole hour early?"

"What?" asked Buffy as the duo reached the kitchen and Dawn retrieved the cooking implements. "Who's stressing? Not me. No, sir. No stressing in Buffy town," Buffy mumbled, rather unconvincingly.

"Look, Buffy, why don't you take a shower, relax?" Dawn asked, gesturing with a cup of flour and spilling some on her shirt. "I _can_ fix breakfast by myself."

"Hm," Buffy almost groaned.

"I promise not to burn the building down."

Buffy groaned again, but she did turn towards the shower. A faint "But 'm not stressed" made it back to Dawn before the bathroom door drifted shut, effectively tuning out the Slayer's protests.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: A few things this chapter: first of all, thank you for your reviews! They really made my day. Second, hopefully you'll be happy to learn that I now have a beta, Colon, whom you can thank for britpicks, corrections, encouragement and the lack of melodrama. (Hopefully I'll actually finish this WIP.) Any remaining mistakes are my own.

* * *

Rupert Giles stepped off the plane from LA to Rome, followed by a small entourage of several young women. He stretched briefly before once again assuming the business-like demeanour he was known for and walked through customs, to the baggage claim, and out the door into the sunlight to hail a cab. 

Willow, Kennedy and Faith followed closely. They had been badgering him every chance they had got, in the car, on the flight, and even on the seemingly endless walk out of the airport; of course, Giles shouldn't have expected them to stop as soon as the plane landed. He rubbed his temples, attempting to fight off the beginnings of a migraine.

It didn't work.

"If you would kindly _shut up_," snapped Giles irritably, "I will tell you when we are _all_ present." He raised his hand, silencing the groans from the Scoobies. "Now, I have a headache. I will see you at Buffy's."

With that said, Giles stepped into a taxi as it pulled up. As the cabbie stowed his bags in the boot, Giles relaxed back into his seat, cleaning his glasses as the Scoobies continued to whine to his locked door. God, they could be infuriating. He once again brought a hand to his temple.

He was brought back to earth when the cabbie returned to the vehicle, asking "Where to?" in heavily accented English.

Startled, Giles muttered "One moment, please," as he rummaged through his pockets, bringing out a slip of paper. "Here it is," he said, leaning over the seat to hand the driver the piece of paper. "This address."

"Mm," the cabbie agreed, taking the slip.

Giles let his head fall back on his seat. He groaned, taking his glasses off and cleaning them. God, his head hurt. Of course, he couldn't blame the girls for their incessant questioning. He'd practically yanked them from their respective homes with no explanation save "Big Bad." Who _wouldn't _be curious?

Still, he had good reason to keep quiet. _Willow alone_ would bombard him with questions, and he reallydidn't want to undergo that ordeal more than necessary. Besides, with this much fuss, they were more likely to believe the rather unbelievable tale he had to tell.

After all, Giles mused, staring out the window at the blur of lights, who would believe that a wizard called Voldemort was trying to take over the world?

* * *

Willow Rosenberg had always been curious by nature. In school, presented with _any_ problem, she would search until the answer was found. Given the right resources, mainly a computer and a fairly fast connection, she could find the solution to _any_ mystery. 

That was why Giles' behavior was driving her so crazy. Giles wouldn't give her _anything_. No hint. No clue. Not even a nudge in the general _direction_ of either hint or clue. _Nothing_.

Baffled, Willow watched as Giles drove away. Without them. Stunned, she followed Kennedy as she walked back up the sidewalk, contemplating Giles' silence.

It must be something Not Good; if it was anything less than that, there would be no reason to gather everyone, especially now that they lived so far apart. Giles called Xander out of Egypt. It would take a full day longer for him to arrive at Buffy's, the designated half-way point, because he would have to drive to Cairo in order to fly to Rome. He called Willow herself away from Rio, along with Kennedy, and Faith flew from New York in order to participate. Something Big was happening, and Giles wasn't saying what.

In itself, the fact that Giles was waiting to spill raised little red flags in Willow's head. Combined with the impromptu Scooby meet, little alarms with flashing yellow lights were added to the mix. What, she wondered, stepping into the back of the cab that Faith was finally able to snag, could be so big that Giles would not repeat himself?

As she stared at the lights of the Rome airport rushing past, Willow concluded that the run-of-the-mill demons, hell beasts, and spirits were not candidates. Frowning, she crossed them off her mental list. There were few things that would call for this amount of attention: off the top of her head, Willow could only think of five.

The first to come to mind was a revival of the First Evil, but if that had been the case, why didn't Giles just say as much? No, that would be bad of the baddest sort, but it wouldn't render Giles speechless.

It could be an alien, but, besides that one Queller demon that came out of the sky, Willow still doubted the existence of aliens. Of course, not that long ago, she had doubted the existence of vampires…

Perhaps, like Maggie Walsh, someone had gone too far playing god and created something they couldn't control.

A god would definitely rate a Scooby reunion, especially if, like Glory, they had a large following. If not for those scabby hobbits, Glory would have been so much easier to elude. A cult following a fallen god could be just as dangerous as the god itself.

But again, why wouldn't Giles just say so? He kept quiet because he didn't want to repeat himself… did he think there would be lots of questions? His silence suggested something they had not yet faced, which ruled out numbers one through four.

Really, only the last on her list made sense given Giles' behavior: a large enough cult could deserve the Scoobies' attention. If the Big Bad was a cult this time, it would probably be either demon or, though she hated to even think it, some magical cult. As much as she hated to admit it, witches could be bad, too.

As she stared out the window of the cab, watching the lights fly past, Willow decided that yes, that must be it. Maybe, she thought, stifling a yawn, Giles had given her more to go on than she'd thought.

* * *

Giles' cab pulled in front of a modest hotel, and Giles stepped out to pay. After a polite thanks, he asked the driver to wait. 

Looking up at the clean, white doors visible past the rusted railing of the upper level, Giles pulled a somewhat tattered piece of paper from his wallet. He unfolded the paper, double checking the room number. Room 214. As he made his way up the stairs, Giles refolded the slip of paper and replaced it in his wallet.

Room 214 was directly in front of the stairs. When Giles arrived, he knocked gently on the door.

"Hello?" replied a voice in an American accent, "Who's there?" Giles almost thought he had the wrong room, but he detected just a hint of a different accent; if he had not been exposed to Americans for as long as he had, he might not have caught it.

Smiling at the occupant's ingenuity, he simply answered, "My name is Rupert Giles."

"Oh?" queried the voice, this time in a much more natural-sounding British accent, "Yes, you're the man we met in Sicily!" As Hermione opened the door, she continued, "So good to see you, sir. Glad you could make it; come in!"

"Thank you," Giles said, a little taken aback by her excitement. "However," he continued, "I am in a bit of a hurry, and I need to talk to the three of you, i-if I could?"

"Oh? Of course! You're probably dying for an explanation—"

"Actually," interrupted Giles, "I thought I could take you three to see my Slayer, if that isn't objectionable? I felt that explanations would be good all 'round."

Hermione faltered as she ushered him in. "Mr. Giles," she began hesitantly, "while I know that your people will want answers, you must understand how precarious our situation is." Quietly, she shut the door. "Anyway," she continued, brightening momentarily, "Mr. Giles, you said that you wanted to talk to all of us." Briskly, she turned on her heel, calling back, "Wait right there!"

A moment later, she emerged with a tall red-head and a skinny boy in glasses. The spectacled boy seemed to be the leader; both Hermione and the taller boy—Ron?—seemed to defer to him. They watched as he stepped forward, extending his hand and saying, "Hello, Mr. Giles. Pleasure to see you again."

Giles shook his head, replying, "'Giles' is fine, thank you. And, I assure you, it's nice to be here. But I am in rather a hurry."

"Of course," said Ron. "Muggle seein' magic for the first time's gonna want an explanation."

"No, Ron," said Hermione, tsking affectionately. Anxiously looking to Harry, she added, "He wants to take us to meet _his_ people. That way we can both explain."

"Oh," said Ron. "Right, then. When and where, mate?"

Startled that even one of the three would trust him so easily, Giles replied, "Tomorrow, actually. Um, i-if it's convenient?"

"Why should we go with you?" asked Harry suspiciously. "I mean, I don't want to be rude, but why should we trust you? We've only just met."

"Harry," interjected Ron, laying a hand on Harry's arm, "he helped us. Without him, we'd've been vamp food."

"Also," interrupted Giles, "I won't force you to meet with us. Admittedly, it would make things much simpler if you'd simply cooperate… and, as I am seeking to help you, I do need your trust, e-especially if, um, you hope for my people to do you any good."

Harry seemed to weigh his options. Giles hoped he would cooperate. A meeting would make things so much easier, especially for him. Nervously, Giles removed his glasses, cleaning them with his handkerchief before replacing them on his nose.

Finally, Harry seemed to come to a decision. Looking to both of his companions, he finally sighed, saying, "You're right. We need to trust you if we want your help. And you've saved us already." Glancing once more to Hermione, he said, "We'll go. Just tell us where."

Giles pulled yet another tiny slip of paper out of his pocket and gave it to Harry. "Here is the address. Be there around three. I trust you'll find a way? If you can't," Giles continued hastily, "I could always call a cab to—"

"No, that's alright," said Harry. "We'll get there our own way."

"Alright," said Giles, and, after a slightly awkward pause, excused himself. Once in the cab again, he allowed himself to relax, trying not to think of the headache that awaited him at the Summers' household.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2! Okay, I realize that Buffy and Harry should be about the same age, but in this story, Harry's about eighteen. Sorry. I don't know when the next chapter'll be out. Because school's in again! And I'm actually excited! Mostly because it's college! Excuse all the exclamation marks in this author's note! Enjoy! And please review! (Okay, I'm done now.)

A/N2: Eep! And thanks for the reviews!

* * *

Buffy was worried. Faith, Will and Kennedy were there, at her house. Giles, even though he'd been on the same flight, wasn't. The slayers asserted that Giles had taken a separate cab, claiming a migraine, and they had just assumed he was headed to her place. Now no one knew where he was. 

She sighed heavily and sat down in one of the chairs scattered around her living room, ending up in the recliner next to Dawn. Now _she_ was beginning to get a headache. She raised one hand to her head, rubbing soothing circles around her temples. Great. There was a Big Bad. Giles was the only one who knew more than that, and he was missing. Great.

Just as Buffy was pondering how to remedy the situation—if only Giles had a cell!—the surrounding discussion finally broke through her thoughts. They were discussing possibilities, and Willow seemed to know what the problem was.

Buffy looked up as Willow elaborated. "Well," she began, "it's obvious." At the slayers' incredulous looks, she amended, "Um, that is, if you really look at the problem. I mean, Giles seemed pretty freaked. That means it's both something big and something we haven't faced yet—or else he would have just told us, right? He wouldn't be assembling the senior members of the Watchers' Council otherwise. So, ruling out what we've faced so far leaves us to what we haven't faced yet—which isn't much." Here, she gave a dramatic pause, only continuing when Buffy's glare grew threatening. "I think it's a cult."

"A cult?" asked Buffy, pictures of young boys raising hell flying through her head. "Like those frat boys that one time?"

"Yes—I mean, no, not exactly," said Willow. "Like that, but not—bigger, a real threat—like that but—"

"But much more dangerous," interrupted Giles from the doorway. Everyone started and turned toward him. "I'm impressed."

"That's Red," said Faith. "Always the brainy type."

By this time, Buffy and Dawn had bolted to the door and enveloped Giles in a hug. Dawn squealed, and Buffy whispered, "Giles, I was so worried."

"I'm fine," said Giles, voice cracking slightly, patting both girls on the back.

Realizing just how tightly she was gripping him, she let go, whispering "sorry" sheepishly, breaking Dawn's embrace in the process.

"Quite alright," gasped Giles, rubbing his side, right before Willow barrelled into him. "Oof—yes, Willow, I've missed you too." Smiling, she, too, backed away. Giles cautiously checked to see that Faith and Kennedy were still safely across the room before commenting, "You really should lock your door, though."

"Ah, yes," said Buffy, blushing slightly as she moved to close the door and turn the lock. "You'd think I'd know better."

"So," called Kennedy from the couch, "it is a cult?"

"Um, yes, o-of a sort," answered Giles, stepping into the room. As the four stared at him expectantly, he continued, "I've invited a group better acquainted with this cult than I; they will be here tomorrow, soon after Xander arrives." The disappointment was palpable as Giles slyly commented that everyone must be jetlagged and, as hostess, Buffy should allow them rest. Stifling a yawn, he suggested sleep.

Annoyed, Buffy walked to the closet and threw the spare blankets and pillow at Giles. When Buffy called out "Goodnight!" the rest of the group hurriedly followed her out of the room.

* * *

Xander's flight arrived at noon the next day, but it took him over an hour to even get out of the airport. He had checked his luggage—it would have been impossible to transport even half of his things otherwise—and, of course, the airline had lost his suitcase. He was taking his frustrations out on the bag lady, before she commented that, as she was the one trying to find his bag, he'd better not make her lose interest. That made him laugh, and he apologized, explaining that it had been a frustrating day. 

Thankfully, she was amused. After forty-five minutes, she found his bag—apparently it had nearly been sent to London, but she quickly diverted it. Thankfully that flight had been delayed. Checking his watch, Xander thanked her and left the airport at 1:13. Once outside, he hailed a cab to Buffy's.

When he finally arrived at the Summers' apartment, it was nearly half past two. After the traditional attack hugs from his girls, and an awkward shoulder pat from Giles, there was an outpouring of babble from Willow, from which he gathered they were up against a cult of the magical variety, he looked good, people were coming, and how was Egypt?

Laughing, he said, "Will, calm down. Breathe. Now, what was that? Slower, and in English?"

Blushing, Wills replied, "Giles is being all closed-lippy, but we know that there's some magical cult that we're up against, and he's invited some people to meet us and explain." Grinning, she continued, "Now to the important things! How are you? How was Egypt—are you training slayers? You got a tan, and if that hadn't happened in _Sunnydale_, how hot was it there?"

"Will, how do you breathe?" he asked, amazed. Buffy, Dawn and Giles were looking at her in awe, while Kennedy looked amused and Faith seemed bored. "I'm fine, Egypt's hot, I'm finding and training slayers, yes. How have you been?"

"Fine, fine. Kennedy and I've been staying in Reno, er, recruiting also."

"Uh-huh," said Xander sceptically. "I'm sure you've been… training hard."

Willow blushed. Kennedy stalked up towards her, embracing her from behind. "Oh, we've been busy alright," she said quietly, making her girlfriend blush even redder.

"Ahem," broke in Buffy. Beside her, Giles was furiously cleaning his glasses, giving no indication that he was aware of the exchange. Gesturing towards a grinning Dawn, Buffy continued, "Teenager present. Save the innuendo for later, okay?"

Dawn and Kennedy rolled their eyes, but she did release Willow.

"Yes," said Giles, replacing his glasses, "well, they should be here soon. Xander, perhaps you'd like to put away your things?"

"You betcha," replied Xander, grabbing his suitcase and duffle bag. "Um, where?"

"Oh, uh… you'll be sharing this room with Giles, so, just in the corner, I guess," said Buffy. "Sorry there's no hide-a-bed. You'll probably get the floor… you okay with an air mattress?"

"That'll be fine, Buff, don't worry about it," Xander assured, crossing the room and dropping his bags in the corner across from the couch. "I have slept on worse."

"I know," said Buffy, crossing the room and hugging him again. "Ah, it's just so great to have you back, Xand." Releasing him and looking around the room, she amended, "It's great to have all of you back. The Scoobies have been apart for far too long."

What would have undoubtedly devolved into a soppy group hug was interrupted by a knock on the door. Buffy straightened and strode to the door, and Xander checked his watch—2:53. They were early.

* * *

Giles, still standing near the door, actually opened it before Buffy reached it. When he moved away from the frame, greeting the guests without inviting them in verbally, she caught a glimpse of a young girl with bushy brown hair and the kind of bookish presence that reminded her of Willow, pre-Oz. As the group entered, Buffy took in the appearance of two boys, one tall, with red hair, the other just a little taller than herself, with black hair and glasses. She could tell that the shorter boy was the leader—the red head was too awkward in his stance, as if unsure what to do next. 

After Giles finished greeting the trio, he introduced them to the rest of the room. "Everyone, this is the group I was telling you about; Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter," he said, gesturing first to the girl, then the red head, and finally to the leader. "I would like you to meet Buffy, Faith, Willow, Kennedy, Dawn and Xander."

"Pleasure, I'm sure," replied Hermione, Ron and Harry nodding behind her. Murmurs of assent were heard from the Scoobies, then an awkward silence descended.

"Um, would you like to sit?" asked Buffy, trying to play the hostess.

"Yes, please."

"So…" began Xander, "you're here to explain, yes?"

All three nodded. After various exaggerated encouraging gestures, Hermione looked to Harry. When he still remained silent, she sighed. "Oh, honestly! Yes, we're here to explain about Voldemort." Buffy noticed Ron wince, and filed that away for later examination.

"Voldemort?" questioned Faith incredulously. "You're tellin' me we're here because of someone named Voldemort?"

"He's a very powerful wizard!" exclaimed Hermione hotly. "He wants to take over the world, and if no one stops him, he might succeed! He's already got half of Europe under his thumb, and if something isn't done soon, he will show how much power he has! You shouldn't treat this flippantly."

"Okay then," said Faith, holding her hands up as if to defend herself. "Sheesh, sorry."

"I apologize," said Hermione, "but you need to know that this is serious."

"Perhaps, um, you could explain what we're up against?" suggested Willow meekly. Kennedy, sitting beside her, put her arm around her reassuringly.

"Yes, sorry," said Hermione. "Where to start?" she mumbled to herself. "I guess I should start by saying that magic is real, which you probably already know. Um, we're magic—I'm a witch, and Harry and Ron are wizards… I'll show you."

The Scoobies watched, speechless, as Hermione drew a thin stick out of her coat. "You're kidding, right?" asked Buffy. Willow, on the couch, was gaping.

"Hm?" asked Hermione, as if pulling a stick out of a coat was a perfectly normal thing. Gesturing toward the stick, she said, "My wand," as if that explained everything.

At that, Buffy noticed with dread, Willow began fuming. "What are you playing at, huh?" she queried angrily. Hermione, along with Ron and Harry, looked flummoxed. "Magic isn't done with wands—are you trying to reinforce age-old stereotypes?"

"You must be misinformed," explained Hermione. "Of course we use wands—Harry, why don't you demonstrate."

"All right," he began, fumbling for his wand. "Um, accio… spoon!" Soon a single spoon smacked into his hand.

"Big whoop," said Willow. She raised her had, and the spoon flew out of Harry's grasp. She levitated the spoon back to the kitchen. The three strangers stared in shock.

"How the bloody hell d'you do that?" asked Ron. "That was brilliant!"

"Ron," Hermione hissed, "let me handle this, will you?"

"Right, 'Mione," Ron grumbled quietly.

"Right," she whispered so softly that, if not for her slayer hearing, Buffy would not have caught it. Louder, she said, "How did you do that? I've heard of wordless magic, but wandless? That's only been done by…"

"By Voldemort," finished Harry, a dark look on his face.

"What? I was going to say untrained children, in moments of distress," said Hermione, shocked.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head, "I saw it. Dumbledore showed me." He turned again to Willow, standing up. He was finally taking the lead, and he had tightened his grip on his wand. Within moments, Buffy was across the room and between Willow and Harry. "How did you do that?" Harry asked menacingly, paying no mind to the slayer between him and his target.

Willow glared, and Kennedy joined Buffy in front of the witch. Giles, who had slipped into the background, looked shocked, while Xander looked like he wanted to join the two slayers in front of his friend, but instead held Dawn back from the same. Faith was leaning against the wall, looking bored, but Buffy could see that the other slayer was ready to pounce if anything happened.

After a moment of tense silence, Giles put a placating hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry started and turned, warily lowering his wand. Buffy and Kennedy lowered their guard cautiously, and Dawn, Xander and Faith all relaxed.

"It's all about emotional control," said Willow softly. "And, of course, magic."

"Well," said Giles awkwardly, "this, this is part of what we should be explaining. Willow is a wiccan. She uses energy from nature to-to do her magics. She can also call on gods or demons i-if she needs help with a particularly potent spell."

"Giles, shouldn't they already know this?" asked Willow curiously. "I mean, he did magic!"

"Yes, Willow, but they need wands," Giles replied contemplatively. "And that, I trust, is one of the things _they_ will be explaining."

"Great, Giles," called Faith from the corner, "but can we get to the explaining already?" Before B really wants to hurt someone?"

"Yes, um… will everyone take their seats?" prodded Giles. As he sat down across from the trio, he sighed, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I have a feeling this will take a while."

* * *

A/N3: Thanks to Colon, my beta! 


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